A Lily Harmony
by Annabella x
Summary: Written for Nanowrimo 2010... Lily Evans wasn't just Harry Potter's mother. She was a daughter, a sister, a friend, a girlfriend. This is her story.  Okay, so I failed Nanowrimo spectacularly...
1. Chapter 1

So, I'm doing Nanowrimo this year (if you don't know what it is, it's basically where you have to write 50,000 words in a month. Google it, okay.) and I decided to do mine as a Harry Potter fanfiction thing... It's not really a story. Am I aware this might not count? Yes. Do I care? No. For me, I feel like if I write 50, 000 words on Lily Evans and about her life I deserve a freaking certificate! If you have a Nanowrimo account please add me as a friend! Nanowrimo's gone a bit weird on me, it just won't load, anyone else?

Every day I'll be uploading more on Lily! In chronological order, hopefully, although this does kind of wander... So there'll be thirty of these! Also, and this is exciting, I wrote EXACTLY 1,667 words which is what you have to do in order to hit your 50, 000. I didn't mean to, it just happened COMPLETELY BY ACCIDENT. Also, there's a bit in here about a Hogwarts prospectus... well, I actually wrote one for my English GCSE as coursework... and I got full marks. Enjoy, and please stop by every day! Also, please review as reviews will motivate me to do this! 50, 000 words, 30 days, the challenge is on!

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**I was eleven when I found out I was a witch.**

I had already taken and passed my eleven plus with flying colours, and gotten into the nearest grammar (unlike Petunia, my older sister). I had made my Mum go out with me and buy a new pencil case, a new coat, and a new bag in addition to my brand new uniform, things we couldn't really afford but which my Mum happily bought anyway. I danced down the streets that night, imagining my future. My parents were so proud of me. "You can go to university and have the life we never could!" they said, and I was excited at the prospect of being the first in my family to go to university. I was so taken up in what I'd done, I didn't think about how Tuney would be feeling. I saw shutters in my sisters eyes. She was only going into Year 8, but she was already mixed up with the wrong crowd, drinking and smoking and terrorising younger kids – but not me, she made sure of that.

I thought it was a joke. When Sev told me I was a witch, I didn't believe him. Me and Tuney flounced off and I persuaded her not to tell our parents (I was never sure why) and that was the end of it, I thought. Except he came again, and again, and told me so many times that I was a witch I started to believe it. Sev could always do that: make it so you believed in him and eventually yourself. I bet he was a good recruiter for Voldemort.

I didn't tell my parents, then. Sev said not to, he said they wouldn't believe me, that it was better to wait for a teacher to tell them. He didn't know who would come tell them, he thought it might be a man called Professor Dumbledore who was the Headmaster or maybe a woman called Professor McGonagall.

I tried to tell Petunia. She thought I was joking, like I did at first, except she never really came round. Even after Professor McGonagall came and told my parents, she thought we were all crazy for even considering it. She really fractured our family then, with her snide comments. Most of the time, she wasn't there though: she spent a lot of time with her friends that summer. When she was at home, she'd sneer at me and say "What about being the first female Prime Minister then, freak?"

I get that Tuney was mad. Really, I do. It must have been awful and hard to deal with, especially when my parents were even more excited at the prospect of me going to this amazing boarding school than they were at me going to the grammar. I know she was jealous and mad at me, because I chose to leave her.

But it still hurt. She was my best friend, pretty much. The other teased me about how hard I worked (like Tuney now did) but I always had Petunia to talk to. But after I accepted my place at Hogwarts, she didn't really talk to me and when she did it was to insult me and call me freak.

For my parents, everything about the magical world was spectacular. They were in love with the grand atmosphere of Hogwarts (it always amused non-muggleborn friends that Hogwarts had a prospectus similar to Muggle schools), with the goblins at Gringotts, with the idea that one day I would be able to fly on broomsticks and conjure potions and use a wand to do spells that would actually work (my Dad told stories again and again of how when I was seven I pretended a stick was a wand and went around cursing people and how when I was ten I dressed up as a witch for Halloween and how we never knew in all that time…)

My parents made me sit at the kitchen table looking at pictures of me dressed up as a witch, the warmth of the fire and brightness of the lights sending me half to sleep. Through the door, in the living room the television screen flickered on Petunia's face as she sat there in darkness and in silence.

I started spending more time with Sev. My parents encouraged me once they knew he was a wizard and more than once they talked to him themselves about what it was like living in the wizarding world.

It was then I saw how he could so easily change into someone he wasn't. When my parents were around, he pasted a cold smile on his face, his words running clear into another, not the easygoing, friendly Sev I knew. It was to become what I called his evil face. To think, I first called it that as a joke.

In the later years of our friendship, he changed back and forth so often from the Sev I knew to the one he presented to the world that I didn't know who he was anymore. Hell, I bet he didn't either.

When I occasionally saw kids who went to my primary school, they'd ask if I was looking forwards to the grammar. I'd say actually, I had gotten into a boarding school on an academic scholarship and the kids would look at me, some of the awe I felt mirrored in their eyes and say how lucky I was. Yes, I would say, I know.

They never knew how sorry I felt for them. Most of them would stay where they were, not going to sixth form and university, going into low paid jobs whereas I would have so much more, I'd be part of a whole other world, where I could travel the world on my broomstick (how sad I was to find out this wasn't possible- unless you were very foolhardy or plain crazy), and where I could go to a boarding school that was a castle.

The first time my parents didn't look happy was when I said, disdainfully about a classmate of mine, "He'll never succeed in life, he'll be in prison by the time he's eighteen." They were appalled and sat me down and taught me a valuable lesson that I remembered for the rest of my admittedly short life. They said that just because I was a witch, just because I was going to a magical school, and just because I scored better on my eleven plus and got into the grammar doesn't mean I'm better than anyone else. It's how hard you try, my parents said. It's how good you are, how nice you are. Lily, they told me, it is much better in life to be good than to be rich or clever or upper class.

I have tried to remember that when dealing with people, particularly annoying, persistent boys. I'm not better than anyone, not even James Potter. There, I said it.

And years later, when I was back home briefly in between Order missions, I came across a few of my old classmates and we got talking and you know what? The boy I had declared would be in prison at eighteen was, at nineteen at Southampton university studying for a degree in architecture.

That summer, the summer before Hogwarts was one of the best I ever had. I tried to ignore Tuney, and during the day me and Sev went to the park and went on the swings or, when they were busy, sat on the grass talking, me weaving daisy chains as I said how nervous I was. "What if no one _likes_ me?" I asked, and Sev looked at me, the intensity in his gaze frightening. "How could they not?" he said simply, and I had to look away, pretending the sun was blinding me when really it was his love. James had the same look on his face when he asked me to marry him.

Sometimes we went to Sev's house. I never really felt comfortable there, and I don't think Sev wanted me there, but his Dad had funny moods and would sometimes, in the morning bellow "I want you home by one o'clock!" when I knocked on his door, so at one we'd go to his house and sit in his bedroom talking. It was better than my house, at any rate, where you never knew if Tuney and her cruel friends were around. We never seemed to run out of things to talk about in those days. We could sit for hours and not get sick of each other's company. I have no idea what we talked about, now.

Sometimes, if his mother hadn't drunk too much Butterbeer, she'd let us use her special Gobstones set, the gold one that she'd won in some tournament. Sev always beat me, but I didn't mind.

The summer went by too fast and too slowly at the same time. I didn't want to start Hogwarts and I couldn't wait for it. I was alternatively worrying about having no friends, worrying about the work, worrying about getting lost, and feeling increasingly excited.

I was so innocent then. I wasn't thinking about the boys at Hogwarts, or anything bigger than making sure I did my all my homework.

I truly believed that if I did all my work well and smiled and was polite to teachers then the world would be fine.

I wish that was what it took to save the world. Smiles and kind deeds. Instead, we're fighting and spilling our blood for peace and I just don't know if it'll enough.

When I was eleven and just about to start Hogwarts I had parents who supported me, a best friend who was there for me no matter what, a sister who came into my room in the middle of the night the night before I was going to Hogwarts and whispered in my ear "I'll miss you".

I had it all.


	2. Chapter 2

Nanowrimo's going great! I'm on target! I don't care that it's only been two days! Enjoy, and please review!

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**Later in my life, people couldn't believe I wanted to be in Slytherin.**

I'd thought a lot about it before I went to Hogwarts. Sev, obviously, wanted desperately to be in Slytherin and so I got rather biased views of the houses. Professor Mcgonagall was very impartial when she was talking about the houses (what a struggle that must have been) and I don't even remember her saying she was Head of Gryffindor. I didn't really talk to any other witch or wizard that summer, so Sev was the source of all I knew about the houses. He told me that Ravenclaws were teachers pets that nobody liked and wore glasses (I was so naïve then that I honestly thought it was a prerequisite to wear glasses in order to be in Ravenclaw). He described Hufflepuffs as stupid and simple and said nobody wanted to be in that house (to be honest, this view of them didn't change much even when I was in Gryffindor), but Sev reserved his deepest hatred for the Gryffindor. He talked constantly of how horrible they were, how they all had massive egos and thought they were the best: how they hated Slytherins for no reason and hexed them at every turn.

I admired Sev for knowing exactly which house he wanted to be in, and I had no doubts that he would get into Slytherin: Sev could make the words "sly" and "cunning" seem like compliments. I later realised how manipulative he was, even then: whether consciously or not I don't know.

But I didn't know what House I wanted to be in. I got increasingly panicky about it, and I even started making lists in desperation, trying to pick out my qualities. The thing was, I wasn't brave, I wasn't particularly sly (my parents could always tell when I was lying), and while I was clever at schoolwork in the Muggle world, who was to say I'd be any good at it in the Wizarding one?

I'd heard Sev talking to my parents about the Houses: he was forced to put a more positive angle on them. He was talking about Hufflepuff, and although his tone was still distinctly disapproving, he was saying how loyal the House is traditionally, how hardworking. That's me, I thought. This house fits me. I never told Sev, or anyone else in fact, apart from the Sorting Hat but that doesn't really count because it could see inside my head.

When I was sorted, I sat there and asked the hat to put me in Slytherin. I wanted to be in Slytherin: truly, I did. For one, I would be with my best friend in all the world and his words had got to me over the last few weeks: he had talked about how Slytherins are ambitious and determined and resourceful and yes okay, cunning, but not everyone has all the qualities their house is known for.

The Hat, however, said, "I think not. You could do well there, but better, perhaps, somewhere else."

I thought furiously, No, Slytherin, please, I'm determined and ambitious and okay, if not Slytherin then Hufflepuff and maybe Sev wouldn't like that but he'd get over it…

The Hat was silent for a minute, and I pleaded for Slytherin or maybe Hufflpuff and then it said "How about Gryffindor? That should be perfectly satisfactory: a mix between the two houses you want to go to."

A mix. I had never considered that. As far as I know, no one else ever has.

I was thinking about it and obviously the hat saw something in my head that I never did, and it roared Gryffindor and I was taking it off and looking for Sev and I saw in his eyes resignation and defeat.

He knew. He knew, all along, all that summer, that I'd be in Gryffindor. The next day, at breakfast, I stood in the Entrance Hall shuffling my feet and nervously avoiding his eyes before saying "You knew, didn't you? That I'd be in Gryffindor. You knew and you didn't tell me!"

He said "Yes, Lily, I knew. You're so obviously a Gryffindor! But I heard that the Hat takes into account what you want and so I thought if you wanted to be a Slytherin bad enough, it would make you one. So, maybe you just didn't wish it hard enough." And he walked off, and sometimes I wish that had been it, that it was then that our friendship stopped, but for better or for worse it continued for the next four years, more or less.

So obviously, both the Hat and Sev had seen something in me that I hadn't. And I was a Gryffindor: brave, daring, chivalrous, according to the Sorting's Hat song. Except I didn't feel brave or daring. Not at all.

It's funny, it was actually Sev who convinced me I was worthy of Gryffindor. It was the Saturday after our first week at Hogwarts and me and Sev were walking around the grounds, exploring our new home. I can't remember exactly what I said, I think I was just saying how I felt that I didn't belong in Gryffindor and how I wasn't brave or daring or chivalrous and Sev stopped me and said, "Lily, of course you're brave, what are you talking about? You've been thrown into this completely new, scary world where people do magic, after living in the Muggle one all your life, and you're coping really well. I could never live in the Muggle world. You're the bravest person I know."

Hey, I thought. Maybe Sev's right. Maybe I do belong in Gryffindor. "I'd still rather be in Slytherin." I said, smiling sadly and looking out across the great expanse of grey lake.

"I know," Sev said. "I wish you were too."

I never liked the house system. I was proud of being a Gryffindor: I went to the Quidditch games, although I could never quite figure out what the big deal was, I contributed to winning the House cup by gaining House points and I cheered when we won it (although it wasn't that regular an occurrence- Slytherin won a few times, and Ravenclaw once).

However, I believed the system was outdated and split apart people more often that it brought them together. The rivalry it garnered was astonishing, and it always disgusted me when a Slytherin or a Gryffindor hexed a member of the other House simply for belonging to that House.

I went to Professor Dumbledore once, when I was Head Girl in my last year. It was, I think, the only time I felt dissatisfied with an answer he gave me.

He told me that everyone has a mix of the qualities traditionally associated with the Houses and while some people may have more of a mix than others, hardly any of us are just one house.

"Yes," I said. "Okay, people aren't just totally a Gryffindor or whatever, but so what? In fact, if people are all a mixture, why have houses at all?"

"What I'm trying to tell you, Miss Evans, is that there is no difference between the houses and you may find this hard to take in but the people in whatever house are the same. There is not much difference at all, and you will be wise to remember that. I myself try to subtly remind people of this fact, but sadly it tends not to stick." Professor Dumbledore said.

"But Sir, if that's true and there's no difference, then why sort? This is my point!" I said, and later I blushed at how I talked to the Headmaster but I was fired up then, enraged by his non-sensical words and ideas.

He smiled kindly at me. "One day, Miss Evans, perhaps you'll see."

Except I never did.

Later I found out he regretted saying that to me. I was early to an Order meeting and I was reminiscing about my Hogwarts days with Professor Dumbledore (all the old students still called him Professor) and he looked at me, his eyes old and blue, and he said "I wonder, Lily, do you remember that meeting we had in my office in your seventh year, when we were talking about the House system?"

I did remember, and I was still ashamed about it so I said, rather bashfully, "Yes, Professor, I do. I didn't really understand what you meant."

"No," he said. "You didn't, of course you didn't. I shouldn't have told you, Lily, you were too young. It was a point I was thinking over, but I shouldn't have subjected you to my thoughts when I had barely begun to understand them myself."

I won't pretend that this made any more sense to me than what he originally said, but I could tell it was important to him, so I said "It's okay, Professor. Really, it's fine."

And that was that.

People in my house regarded me as benevolent but not to be entirely trusted: I was good and kind and smart and I won a load of House Points but I did, after all, spend most of my time with Sev, perceived as the "enemy".

I've thought about it a lot, and I've decided that I am glad the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor. I'm brave, yes: what I've done with the Order has proved that, but I'm not that brave. I don't know if I would have joined the Order, would have been against Voldemort if I had been a Slytherin. I know, practically firsthand, how pressured Slytherins were to join him: I watched my best friend cave in to the constant, relentless expectation.

I never told anyone this, needless to say. Actually, maybe that's not true. There was this one morning, where James and me were in bed just talking and I said to him, "Did you ever wonder what would happen if you were a Slytherin? Like, do you think you'd be a Death Eater right now?"

"Lil," he said, looking at me. "You're not a Death Eater. Just because once upon a time you wanted to be in Slytherin. Dumbledore told me once that life's all about choices. You made yours. I made mine. Severus made his. Now let's please stop talking about this."

That surprised me. And also reminded me why I married him.

I noticed, pretty much immediately, that he hadn't actually answered my original question. I guess all of us can have doubts, even the great, good James Potter.

And, in the end, it doesn't even matter, because we weren't Slytherins and we weren't Death Eaters. Who cares what might've happened?


	3. Chapter 3

It's been a while... Okay, so I failed Nanowrimo. I managed three days.

But now all of my mocks are over and it's almost the christmas hols so I'm uploading my third day's work...

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**Although I was proud of being in the Order, towards the end I begun to question the tactics we used and my involvement in it all.**

Don't get me wrong, I wholeheartedly supported the Order, and I never for one moment thought of leaving, but I did disagree with what some of my colleagues were doing.

I understood all of the arguments. "It's what the enemy do." "We can't fight fair, this is a war." "We're fighting for peace!"

I just never got why we fought for peace by torturing Death Eaters.

And that's what we did. When I joined the Order, we still believed in playing fair, but the next couple of years brought about huge changes in how the Death Eaters operated: they began to kill huge numbers of people in broad daylight in crowded places, and things got more drastic and the stakes higher, and members found themselves more and more furious at how the Death Eaters would torture any Order member they captured.

And so we, the Order of the Phoenix, sworn to protect, found ourselves using Unforgivables on Death Eaters.

The first time I was just past nineteen and we had been called to a house where Death Eaters had just killed a man. They were Disapparating as we arrived, but Moody, I think it was, managed to Disarm and Stun one.

We took him back to Headquarters and interrogated him about what they were doing and why and their next plans. He refused to talk (and as Moody got more annoyed, I couldn't help but think that's exactly what any of us would do) and sat there, glaring.

Moody was the one doing the talking, the veteran, with James and me as the inexperienced students, sitting there watching. Finally, after hours of fruitless attempts, Moody said "If you don't talk now, I'll make you talk!"

I didn't know what he meant, but I realise now the Death Eater (he was nameless, but that didn't make it any easier) must have, for he laughed a little and said "Oh, yeah? And you call yourself the good guys?"

That must have got to Moody as he shouted "Crucio!" and the Death Eater doubled over but nothing more than a groan escaped his lips, and I couldn't help but admire that. I had experienced the Crucio and it had always reduced me to a sobbing wreck.

Moody stood, looking at the Death Eater with disgust and he said "James, Lily. See if he'll talk. You have my permission to do anything to make him."

I looked at James, then. He was looking down at the Death Eater, the same expression on his face as Moody. I knew then he'd never understand what I was feeling.

"James…" I said, but he shook his head and the meaning was very clear: I can't deal with you and your morals right now.

I stumbled out of the room, tears clouding my vision and I Apparated with some difficultly back to our house. When James got home, two hours later, I was curled up on our bed, eyes blankly staring at the wall.

"Lily," he said, that's all, and it was hate and fear and love. I think he was about to

say something to the effect of "It's okay" or even "You shouldn't have left."

Instead, surprising himself more than me, he sat down on the bed heavily and began to sob.

I sat up, and put my arms around him as he sat there and wept. Presently, he stopped, and we lay down together, and as the moon shone silver above us, we talked.

"It's so wrong, James." I said, and he said, "It is wrong, but I'll do it, Lily."

I rolled away from him then, and the rest of the night was spent in silence.

The world was white and black for most of the Order including, I'm sorry to say, Sirius and James. Evil was evil, and it was acceptable to hurt that evil.

For me, the world was black and white too but in a very different way: hurting people was wrong, and it was that that had compelled me to join the Order.

Some of the Death Eaters were our age or younger: it was rare, but I had once seen a sixteen year old on a raid.

We had just captured four Death Eaters- there were about ten of them when we first go to the poor Muggle's house, but six had managed to get away.

We took their masks off, and I was shocked by how young the Death Eater was. I recognised him from Hogwarts- he was a Slytherin, two years younger than me. That'd make him in his 6th year. I gasped.

"You go to Hogwarts, don't you?" I said. "In your sixth year, right?"

James looked sharply at him then.

The Death Eater looked at me, and I could tell he had placed me when he said "You're Lily Evans!"

"Lily Potter, actually." I said, and Moody interjected here and said "You say he goes to Hogwarts, Lily? Well, now is not the time to be merciful. He is old enough to know the consequences of his actions. Stupid bugger."

The other members of the Order were securing the prisoners and taking them back to Headquarters.

I knew what would happen there.

"No, wait, please, Moody. Let me interrogate him." I said.

Moody looked at me, and he said fine, and I am certain it was for my benefit and not the Death Eaters'.

I grasped his arm firmly, James all the while pointing his wand at the Death Eater. We apparated to Headquarters, James appearing a moment later.

I sat across from the Death Eater, James standing up (the preferred way to go about interrogating someone as it was more intimidating).

It was obviously the first time he'd gone muggle baiting: I bet he'd considered it an honour when he was chosen to go.

The reality of the situation, however, had caught up with the Death Eater. He was pale, and while he wasn't a sobbing wreck, he was certainly frightened.

I figured I'd better start asking some questions, or Moody would come and take him to where the other Death Eaters were. They were probably screaming in pain by now.

"What were you doing there?" I said.

"It was my first time… Look, I didn't entirely expect it to be like that-"

James interrupted, "What, you didn't know what you'd joined? For christ's sake, every day there are stories in the Prophet about the murders the Death Eaters do-"

The Death Eater looked at me, not exactly pleading but still… looking at me to help him.

"James," I said. "You're not helping."

He stormed out of the room. I looked back at the Death Eater. He glared at me, defiant. "Look, kid, I helped you. Without me, you'd be being tortured right now. So for God's sake, tell me why you went there-"

It was then that Dumbledore walked in. Me and the Death Eater said "Professor!" at the same time.

Dumbledore was furious- quietly so, like always, and I hoped it wasn't me it was aimed at.

"Lily," he said tightly. "I'd appreciate it if you let me know when you have one of my students under your, ah, _care_."

I didn't know what to say.

"Mr Pooley," Dumbledore went on, and just like that, the Death Eater from being a Death Eater to someone who had a name, a future. "You will come with me back to Hogwarts. It is, after all, a school night. How you got out, I must admit, is beyond me."

He hid it well, but Pooley must have been a little relieved. Maybe he still believed, as I did when I was sixteen, that Dumbledore could fix anything.

They went, and I believe that is the last I saw of him. Maybe he is proof that no one is too far gone to be saved. Maybe he just got faster and cleverer and never got caught again.

Me and James each thought each other was the brave, strong one: I thought James was brave enough to do what he had to and just get on with it. James thought I was brave enough to stand up for my convictions and not let anyone sway me.

Hell, maybe he thought I was brave for having convictions.

They were hard enough to find back then.

So, while most people associated torture with the Death Eaters, it went on even inside the fabled Order. It was something which I was never associated with, but, to be honest, I should have been. I wanted somebody to stand up, tell the Wizarding community outright what was going on, beg them to stop it.

I wanted to do that by myself. But I didn't, I sat still and told myself it'd all be worth it.

I was one of the good people who sat by and did nothing. I abandoned the girl I had been at seventeen: outraged at injustice, strongly against torture and murder, sure she'd always stand up and protest.

I watched the ones I loved become monsters, hurting others to protect the world and the future. It was awful but it was a war. Full scale, outright warfare.

I thought of the wars I'd learn about at primary school: guns and planes and ships. They fought in plain sight. We fought stealthily, in the dark, in locations all around the country.

I was a hero. I said that to myself over and over again. It became easier to believe, as most of the Wizarding World believed it too.

And no one ever cared enough to protest against it. It was hard to believe in humanity anyway: my colleagues often said how humanity was crumbling. It was for me too, but in a different way. The people we fought to protect just let us do all the evil things we fought against. I let them happen, too.


End file.
